“Small Things Like These” is a faithful film adaptation of Claire Keegan’s 2021 novel set in December 1985 New Ross, Ireland. Bill Furlong (Oscar winner Cillian Murphy), a coal merchant with a modestly successful business, is a father of five girls, a decent and generous employer and a loving husband. Visions of the past and ongoing quotidian abuse against women haunt Bill until an encounter at a Magdalene Laundry completely disrupts his routine, and he comes to a crossroads regarding what his highest duty is. Who is he responsible for?
To get audiences to care about social issues, one staple narrative convention is to make sure that the protagonist is a white man. There has been a gradual disruption of that trope though it rears its head on occasion such as when “Game of Thrones” focuses on Theon Greyjoy’s pained reaction to a villain forcing Theon to witness the rape of a more prominent character. It is unfortunate that some people’s pain is a taken for granted and easier to ignore whereas the impact on others who are not the direct target matter more because of their societal status. They do not have to care, and it is unusual when they do. If a woman complains, she gets discredited or ignored, but a man making the same points has more weight and is seen as objective. “Small Things Like These” takes that approach with the Magdalene Laundries, which the Catholic Church used from the eighteenth century until 1998 to enslave girls and women then sell and traffic the enslaved’s children, but the main character is not anyone caught up in that horror. It is a respected, hardworking man who narrowly escaped that fate because of random circumstances which gets detailed in flashbacks, which initially are not obviously from the past and seem to unfold in the present.
If you have a soulful actor like Murphy at the helm, this old-fashioned technique not only works, but it soars because of his ability to project the tortured soul within his characters without saying a word. It also does not hurt that Murphy is teaming up with a director whom he frequently collaborates with: Tim Mielants, who worked with Murphy on the television series “Peaky Blinders.” Television series can be code for a person trying to transition to the big screen and may have a lot of experience but is not ready to make the leap or does so poorly. Mielants elevates television into cinematic quality and with a larger canvas, there is just more of his work to love. In addition, Enda Walsh, the writer who adapted Keegan’s book, is also a playwright who gave Murphy his start on stage and film when Walsh’s play “Disco Pigs” was adapted for the screen in 2001, in which Murphy’s the actor who plays Bill’s onscreen wife, Eileen Walsh, also appeared. The gravitas of “Small Things Like These” is anchored in long standing quality relationships off-screen which translates seamlessly on screen and makes it possible to suspend disbelief that a man who lived in that community for so long would suddenly awaken to the abuses next door.
The implication is that because Bill is a girl dad, his protective instincts are on overdrive as his oldest is getting ready to leave the nest, but “Small Things Like These” also uses a gimmick used in “Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice” (2016)-his mother, Sarah Furlong (Agnes O’Casey) shares a name with Sarah Redmond (Zara Devlin), the person that Bill witnesses getting dragged to the nuns. Murphy is a great actor y’all because anyone with less talent would leave this plot twist vulnerable to roasting. Mielants borrows a page from Chantal Akerman and visually establishes Bill’s daily routine and the neighborhood’s mood before gradually disrupting it until Bill’s crisis of conscience silently rips everything open so no one can ignore the abuses. There is some wonderful framing at every turn, but the world begins to open up as the Furlong living room spills into the kitchen and vice versa. Bill’s sleepless night becomes a seat at the theater where all the world is a stage with his living room curtains framing the street. Like a modern-day Pilate, Bill furiously scrubs his hands in the hallway bathroom sink.
It is unbelievable to think that the man who played a psycho in “Red Eye” (2005) can seem so retiring, bashful and timid here. In the first scene with community at the local pub, he seems so content and grateful to belong but also separate. When he is with his family listening to a choir sing carols at the tree lighting, his stance is similar. As he witnesses Sarah’s internment, he almost retreats into the darkness out of respect and fear. When he is finally brave enough to enter the convent, he shrinks within himself as the nuns upbraid him, roughly usher him out or just intimidate him. “Small Things Like These” really conveys the fearsome nature of nuns with Emily Watson playing Mother Superior Mary who has a gentle, soft voice that sounds kind, but warmth does not reach her eyes, and everyone cowers around her. The movie strains credibility when the parish priest is nowhere to be seen, and she addresses the congregation. Every word is a veiled threat, and her presence is like an unsheathed dagger or a cocked gun.
Again “Small Things Like These” works because it dares to do what others fail to do—capture how women should not be dehumanized by automatically being classified as good. Entering the convent is like setting foot in a concentration camp, and though it is rarely spelled out, the threat is not just men inflicting sexual violence on his girls, but women wearing habits who possess the power to automatically deem them anything but good girls. It is also important to remember that “Small Things Like These” is a Christmas movie. Christmas is a holiday based on a young woman having a child out of wedlock, and she gets stuck in a filthy, outdoor environment unsanitary for child rearing or recovering from childbirth. It is a scenario that inexplicably gets updated as a test that most people are failing. As a secular holiday, Santa gives coal to the naughty, and like Santa, Bill hauls sacks of the stuff, but the film subtlety flips the idea of morality on its head.
Not everything works in “Small Things Like These.” Bill has an epiphany about his father’s identity, which is supposed to be heartwarming, but felt unintentionally enraging. If Bill’s father was nearby and cared, he could have sheltered the mother of his child and his child from persecution. Though it was clear that his mother’s sanctuary did not come from family, but a kindly local woman of means, Mrs. Wilson (Michelle Fairley), it was not obvious that she was Sarah’s employer, which is an unnecessary piece of information. Best line and aspiration: “one of the few women who could do as she pleased.” Also Bill and Eileen’s daughters are not individuated except the oldest has red hair. They are more like symbols of Bill’s goodness, but not all girl dads are good.
“Small Things Like These” is a perfect movie to watch with “Sorry/Not Sorry” (2023). It depicts a man as an upstander who sees everything as his business and has a sense of urgency to get involved despite the fearsome ramifications. At the end of the film, Bill seems as if he will finally be able to get a good night’s sleep after satisfying his conscience.
